Of Shinigamis And Karatekas
by Deus Misereatur
Summary: A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 15: Overpass.
1. Chapter 1: Analgesia

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 1: Analgesia. 

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_Don't waste your time on me; you're already a voice inside my head.  
- Blink 182, I Miss You_

* * *

_'Why are you always so insistent on protecting everyone?'_

He lunged hazardously at the black amorphous monster, aiming for a fatal blow and hopefully, ending the battle quickly.

_'I don't need your protection!'_

He didn't see the curling tail, waiting for a foolish move.

_'I need you…'_

He was whipped across the large classroom, smashing into desks and chairs along the way before finally crunching hard against the wall. His head crashed into the nearby board, scarring his face with untold scratches and gashes. The impact drove all air out of his lungs, and his attempts to regain his breath were rewarded with several bloody coughs.

_'So…'_

His world spun around him, with darkness slowly encroaching on his vision. He clutched his blade tightly, trying to maintain his grip on the world. Pain wracked his battered body.

_'Don't leave me.'_

Using his blade as a prop, he managed to get up on his feet, albeit still wobbling. He'll have to end the battle swiftly before he either lose all consciousness or faint from the excruciating torture and that would mean death. Gripping the hilt tightly, he drew it up, leaning against the smashed wall. He can't die.

_'Promise me…'_

He promised. He gritted his teeth. Pain or not, he had to win. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself.

_'That no matter how far you have to run, you'll come back…'_

"BANKAI!"

_'… And that if things messed up, you'll wait…wait for Rukia, wait for Chad, wait for Ishida, wait for Orihime…**just** wait…'_

His sword clattered against the cement floor as he slumped down, the last bits of the monster disintegrating into the darkness. His blood was painted all over the room, evidence of the terrific battle he had with the monster.

_'…because if you die, I **will** find you and kill you again!'_

His world became black, and the last thought he had was of her, gracefully flitting through her opponents on the karate mat, like a butterfly.

* * *

**ANALGESIA **_noun:  
loss of ability to feel pain while still conscious_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I'm not sure if this makes sense...but it just came to my mind, and I couldn't help but to write it. Happy reading!_  
_


	2. Chapter 2: Bumptious

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 2: Bumptious. 

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_I want to lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me…  
- Savage Garden, Truly Madly Deeply_

* * *

They were out on the few rare dates on whatever free time they could spare. What with their college demands, his constant Shinigami-ing and her frequent international competitions, it was a miracle should they ever find time _just _for themselves. And today was such a miracle, and she was determined to let nothing spoil it. _Nothing_.

Being the gentleman he was, he let her decide the course of their date today. Feeling typically girly, she decided on the largest shopping mall that housed the largest clothes boutique, which would account for them being there for…

"…an eternity," she heard him mumbled to himself, as he wore the soles of his shoes off, walking in circles. Nevertheless she knew he was _not_ irritated, if not for the merest of appearance of a smile on his lip than for the fact that his face _wasn't_ pulled in his trademark scowl.

'He's actually quite cute when he's not glaring all the while,' she mused. 

Lost in his own world, he was jostled out of his thoughts when she whacked him slightly on the air, before parading her latest acquisition in front of him. "What do you think, Ichigo?" she asked, twirling around like a ballerina.

She chose a tight black tank top, "which would look better if you actually have more of a bust, Tatsuki," he noted, utterly unaware of the evil eye he was receiving until he was promptly kicked in the shins. Hard. By the second strongest woman in Japan.

Ouch.

"Bloody woman!" He growled.

She grinned, before fleeing back into the changing room, intent on keeping hold of the said top. She was _simply_ glad that they could just spend time together without being burdened.

They left the shop with several bags some time later, Tatsuki deciding that a single top was not enough and proceeded to buy a matching skirt and some jeans, before dumping them all on him. "You," she poked his chest with a finger, "shall be my pack mule today!"

She then took his large, rough hand into her small but strong ones and led him on a leisurely stroll around the mall, indulging in the peace of the moment. "You know, we don't do this often enough." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Just walking, together…"

"I know," he replied quietly. "I miss you."

She lifted her head to gaze into his amber eyes. "I miss you, too." She tilted her head closer to his and allowed her lips to graze his. "Go…," she whispered, as she pulled back.

He raised an eyebrow quizzically. She pointed towards his vibrating pocket.

"They're calling you."

"But…"

"They need you…more than me." She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his, not wanting him to see how much pain letting him go was. "Just…just promise me you'll come back safely…to me..."

"I will…"

He pulled her in for a fierce and passionate kiss, before sprinting off.

Sometimes, she just wishes that he was more selfish and she, more inconsiderate and that they could just spend a day without bothering about the world.

For she now knows the sight of his retreating back very well now.

* * *

**BUMPTIOUS**_ noun:  
conceited_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks to xSTALKERx for reviewing! Here's another drabble...hope this one was as good as the last! Happy reading!_  
_


	3. Chapter 3: Cri de couer

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 3: Cri de couer.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_Please come now, I think I'm falling,  
I'm holding on to all I think is safe…  
- Creed, One Last Breath_

* * *

She thought she could get used to it.

She thought, one day, she would simply not feel _it_ anymore.

She would not feel how _they_ always left together.

She would not feel how _she_ started knowing him better, how she was relegated from first to know to somewhere along the last.

She would not feel left out.

She would not feel alone.

But it was clear that she was wrong.

Simply wrong.

Every look they share, every touch they feel, every word they speak would annoyed her. It would irritate her. It would frustrate her. It made her want to scream to the world, saying that he belongs to her and only her. It made her feel like her heart was shriveling, crushed into minute pieces.

It pained her.

And so, here she was, standing awkwardly out in the rain, waiting for someone to answer the doorbell.

The door slid open to reveal and orange haired teen whose amber eyes portrayed curiosity at her and the water dripping down her wet black hair.

"Ichigo," she took a deep breath, "I need to tell you something."

* * *

_**CRI DE COUER** noun:_

_a passionate appeal, complaint or protest_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks to Final Fight and darkangel1910 for reviewing! Sorry for the late and utterly short update this time. But I promise I'll update sooner this time and I'll make sure its longer, too. Happy reading!


	4. Chapter 4: Discord

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 4: Discord.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_And I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well...  
- Dashboard Confessional, Vindicated_

* * *

The classroom never felt smaller than before, at least, to him. Somehow, everywhere he turned, everywhere he looked, he would end up facing her. 'Her and her god-awful, irrational, hormone driven temper!' he thought testily, as he challenged her furious glare as their paths crossed again, for the fifth time in the class.

The class somehow knew something was going on between the two childhood friends, and the majority chose to wisely ignore it. Somehow, poking their noses into the affairs of two of the most aggressive (and strongest) students didn't amuse them much, which was fine for Ichigo. Unfortunately, his closer group of friends simply couldn't take a hint.

"Hey, Ichigo, what's going on with you and Tatsuki?" Keigo asked curiously as he loomed into Ichigo's line of sight.

"Nothing."

"Whhaat? You call those," Keigo pointed somewhat indirectly towards the angry look Tatsuki had been directing all day long at the orange haired teen, "normal? She looks like that only when she catches me feeling Orihime up!" Keigo narrowed his eyes at Ichigo. "Did you feel Orihime up?"

"No!" the teen in question snarled. "She just mad at me for reasons I don't bloody know and which she bloody expects me to bloody read her mind!"

Silence fell in the classroom. Ichigo's face reddened silently, as he realized he ranted a little louder than he expected. He glared defiantly at anyone who dared to stare at him, stopping short of _her_, though.

Nevertheless, he could hear her chair scrap the cement floor, he could hear her soft footsteps headed his way.

"Good luck," Keigo whispered softly, eyeing the bristling tigress who was stalking up to her prey, as he slinked off, eager to escape whatever massacre Ichigo would be facing. The entire class followed suit, seemingly involved in whatever extra-curricular activities which required them to leave the class, providing a wide berth for both Ichigo and his angry friend.

"You know what your problem is?" he could hear her low voice quietly asking.

He turned bracing himself for the furious onslaught he thought was coming, and thus was more than surprised to see tears welling up in her large, large eyes.

"You are a bastard, Ichigo. A selfish, inconsiderate, dense bastard!" Tears were trickling unchecked down her cheeks, signaling to him how upset she really was.

Her voice then dropped to a mere whisper. "I _love_ you…but I don't know why I should!" Wiping the tears of her face, she hiccupped.

"You confuse me, Ichigo. You're always around Orihime and Rukia, always smiling and laughing with them, crushing my heart. Then, you would turn to me and smile the truest smile, building up my hopes back!"

"But, then, then when I finally built up my confidence to tell you how I feel, you told me, 'Sure, Tats, I love you, too.' Do you know how painful it is to hear that? Do you?" She stared into his eyes, pain evident in hers.

"No, you don't. Because you're Ichigo." She answered sneeringly, her voice growing bitter. "Well, I'm sorry to have bloody messed up your day. This won't happen again." And with that, she wiped her tear-stained cheeks one last time and turn to leave.

And he could only stand there in shock as he tried to understand what just happened.

* * *

**DISCORD **_noun_:

_disagreement, quarreling_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Again, thanks to darkangel1910, ichitatsu forever, xSTALKERx, Final Fight and Artificial Life Creator for reviewing. Well, I know this isn't much longer than the previous one and I did promise to update faster and longer...forgive me, yeah? I did update faster, right? Haha...hmmm, as to xSTALKERx, I'll keep your suggestion in mind! Happy reading!


	5. Chapter 5: Encore

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 4: Encore.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven?  
Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven?  
- Eric Clapton, Tears In Heaven_

* * *

The glaring lights of the hospital room shone brightly into his blood-rimmed eyes, a mad desperate look on his face. The smell of death, the air of despair, the presence of desperation, it all came hauntingly back to him, on that rainy, rainy night.

_And he promised never to feel it again._

He glanced around the room madly, hoping for some assurance that the ancient past he buried on that day would not be repeated again. He could only see the slumped shoulders of Ishida, the sobbing figure of Orihime, the morose Chad and even a subdued Rukia.

_And he remembered the emotionless face of his father and the quietness of his sisters._

His heart pounding again his chest, his nails dug so hard he was certain they would draw blood, his hair frazzled and his mind in chaos, he began pacing the waiting room up and down, waiting for the surgeons to leave the operation room with her _intact_. The lighted 'EMERGENCY' words died down. His heart shuddered. The doors opened as three tired looking doctors emerged.

_His father came to him, with the saddest face the boy has ever seen his cheerful dad put on._

"We're sorry…but we did the best we could. She's gone…"

_"Ichigo, she's gone…"_

Gone…

The simple word expanded within the waiting room, infiltrating the minds and thoughts of the people waiting there. He could barely grasped the action (Ishida hiding his face behind his hands and Rukia comforting an openly weeping Orihime) that was unfolding beyond his perception as the words rattled within his head.

"She's gone…"

_"She's gone…"_

Everything had a surreal feel to it, nothing was _real_. Past and present merged, and once again he was a boy, waiting for his mother to come back.

_He was a man, waiting for his best friend, his lover, his wife to come back._

"Let…let me see her…her body…" he mumbled to the doctors, stumbling over the words. It was an act of treason, acknowledging her non-existence, referring to her only as a body. But it was all that he could do.

He approached the sheet covered body slowly. Reluctantly, he grasped one edge of the white sheet and slowly pulled it down. Her cold face, sleeping face met his vision. He crumbled.

_He fought his father tooth and nail, he even resorted to kicking, all the while screaming, "Okaa-saan!!"_

He pressed his warm lips on her cold and lifeless ones, heedless of the tears that were flowing unchecked down his face. Reaching for her hand, he grasped it tightly, unwilling to let it go. He fell onto his knees by her side, rocking slightly, all the while mumbling, "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you…please, I'm sorry..."

His voice dropped to a pleading whisper. "Don't leave…," his voice broke, "…me…"

And he cried.

_And he cried._

And then, he heard a fleeting whisper echo throughout the stale air, saying, "Ichigo, don't cry…"

_"I-chi-go, don't cry…," the little girl tried to comfort the sobbing boy. She offered him a pink handkerchief with strawberries embroidered on the sides. "You're not alone…"_

"…You're not alone…"

* * *

**ENCORE **_noun_:

_call for repetition, item performed in response to it_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Hello again! Looks like I updated far earlier than I expected, but thanks to the lovely reviews by xSTALKERx, darkangel1910, ichitatsu forever, Artificial Life Creator and Final Fight (Sorry...hehe), I just can't stop the itch to write. Anyways, it wasn't my intention to persist in torturing poor Tatsuki...but...can't stop the plot bunnies, can't I? I'll try, though, to make it a happier one next update. Till then, happy reading!


	6. Chapter 6: Fairytale

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 4: Encore.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_'You complete me and I just ha...'  
- Jerry McGuire, Jerry McGuire_

* * *

Normalcy is overrated, at least to both of them. They were _unconventional_ and _weird_ (Ishida), _downright scary_ (Keigo), _perfectly perfect_ (Orihime), _loud _and _noisy_ (Chad), _cute _and _cuddly_ (Rukia (surprise, surprise)) and even _match made in heaven_ (Kon (the teddy-lion did mention on how similar they were…what with their aggressive tendencies…and, oh yeah, that would mean his nee-chan would be save from the scowling pumpkin head))! While these were comments by their friends and thus would actually matter, it didn't bother them much because, to them, they were _them_.

Sure, saying things were downright nice and warm and fuzzy would be _simply_ stretching the limit. For he is not a knight in shining armor, striding atop his faithful steed, just awaiting the piteous cry for help from his fair maiden, secreted away by the villainous villain in a hidden tower, guarded by a powerful but depressed guard (the maiden would then have to change her name from Tatsuki to Orihime and start growing long orange locks and have a sudden growth burst in the bosom department).

He is not noble (stubborn), not virtuous (loves to curse), not filial (enjoys beating up his father), not charming (loves to scowl) and simply not _knightly_. But to be fair, he is strong and powerful and has the weirdest notions in his mind to go a-rescuing damsels in distress (the said Orihime comes to mind). He is loyal to his friends and he loves to fight. Oh yeah, and he loves Shakespeare, too.

And she's not a princess, all prim and proper, all _womanly_ (he actually shuddered when he tried imagining her being a girl). She was of average build, black hair and has fairly decent features. She does not have an impressive rack, nor does she have a sob story bearing on her like an unseen burden and fortunately, she is not a beauty queen (it lessens the suitors and a certain aggressive molester of a woman). She was simply not a _queen_.

She is not kind and gentle to all creatures (learns karate and has a tendency to thrash around bullies and/or perverts), not submissive and docile (states what she wants and when she wants…anything less and they be talking to _her_ hand), not simpering and facetious (honestly brutal and brutally honest) and dislikes being protected (prefers _protecting_). But she is not all that wrong, for she is fair-minded and sensitive to the needs and wants of others. She loves her friends to death and is willing to die for them. And she is brave and courageous.

On paper, they would seem to be a disastrous match, should they be brought into the same room. In reality, it _was_ disastrous the first time they ended up in the same room (he ended up crying to his mama). Nevertheless, with much compromise and tolerance (and less of being a sissy on his part), they both grew. Grew to tolerate. Grew to compromise. Grew to understand. Grew to love.

What would seem like a volatile relationship was not that much volatile than it was a relationship. His hot-headedness suited hers; it does not allow the other to over-dominate the relationship. His saving-people complex melds well with her honesty, she never hastens to tell him when he should be heroic and when he is a fool. His tendency to go overboard with protection falls short in face with her utter _hatred_ in being protected (he would rather whatever that was threatening her face her anger than he himself).

But it would be a lie to say that they do not fight or quarrel like other couples. For they do and the only difference is, when they do, it matters. Like the time when he went off to fight some crazy power-hungry megalomaniac with strength almost five times that of his. Or like the time when she almost died because she wanted to follow him and do the impossible. Fights between them were usually lightning storms, vicious, dangerous and _quick_. For they would make up immediately, for he _simply _cannot live without her and vice versa.

Unsurprisingly, they don't believe in happy endings. For they both agree, true love never dies.

* * *

**FAIRYTALE**_noun:_

_a tale about fairies or magic, an incredible tale, a falsehood_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Hello! I did say I would try to stop updating saaad stories...so I did try...hehe...this is not sad, but not exactly pure fluff, I guess. But, I do hope its fun to read, 'cause, it was great fun to write! Oh, and thanks very much to all my reviewers, love ya to pieces (I don't want to mention names, in case I forgot again (sorry, Final Fight!) but that doesn't mean I don't love ya the same! Hehe...) Anyways, happy reading!


	7. Chapter 7: Gay

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 7: Gay.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me,  
__So won't you kill me, so I die happy?  
- Dashboard Confessional, Hands Down_

* * *

"Tatsuki, answer me truthfully. Are you a lesbian?"

"OUCH!!"

"Bloody woman, what was that for? I was merely asking a perfectly no – OUCH! Damn it, Tats, keep your hands to yourself!"

"Sheesh…women…"

"Nothing, I said nothing…"

"Hey, look, I'm not about to discriminate you or whatever if you are gay, ok. I'm fine with it. So don't _don't_ tell me just because you're afraid or something."

"So you're not gay? _Really?_ Not gay?"

"OUCH!"

"Okay, okay! I get it! You're not gay and you're in love with someon – WHAT? YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE?"

"Are you sure you're not making this up just to try to convince me you're no – OUCH! Damn it, Tatsuki, I said keep your bloody hands off! OUCH! And knees! OUCH! And legs!"

"Soo…when did you, my dear Tats, suddenly grew up and notice boys? I mean, as your best friend, I suppose I have the right to actually screen this guy first, before he hurts you or anything. By the way, when did you liked this person? Why didn't I noticed? What's his name? How old is he? Where does he live? Ho – OUCH! …Damn, I forgot you got a hard head as well…"

"Well, if you don't want me to 'interrogate' you, as you _so_ nicely put it, spill it out!"

"We'll start with the most fundamental aspect of this mysterious lover-boy of yours…hmm…like, is he, uhh, male?"

"AAAAARGH! It's a joke, it's a joke! Can't you take a joke?"

"Fine, fine, I'll 'behave' myself. Just tell me who he is and I'll tortur – sorry, 'investigate' him out myself…"

"Ok, ok, so let me get this straight. He's our age, from our class, in fact, he's a stubborn, idiotic moron who is a thick-headed fool. He has a suicide tendency and has too many close _girl friends_. He doesn't smile, isn't good looking, isn't charming and is plain stupid most of the time. He loves to fight, has no respect for elders and does not have any specific advantages compared to an ape. Are you that desperate 'till you'll like such a guy?"

"OUCH! Woman, I swear…hit me one mo – AARGH! Fine, I'm sorry!"

"…and he's an inconsiderate, insensitive idiot with the emotional range of a teaspoon as well? Is it even possible for one man to incorporate so many vices at once? Wait…it is…I mean, he is from our class, right? And out class is filled with such guys…"

"Is it Keigo? Is it? I swear, if it is, I'm gonna go and castrate that bastard first before he even thinks of touching you in _any_ way! I know! I'll ask Kenpachi-taichou for some tips on frightening people…I'm sure he has a whole book on them…hehehe…"

"No? Not Keigo, huh? Then…is it Mizuru? Mizuru? MIZURU? Hmm…I didn't know he was such a person. Always thought he was quiet and unassuming guy. Nice, too. Scary, to think that he was hiding such a person behind that false nice-guy look…"

"Not Mizuru as well? No? Then who is he? Noo…don't tell me…it's Ishida? But Ishida **does** not have any girlfriends at all…Chad? Hmm? Chad, Chad, is it Chad? _Chad_?"

"Am I right? Am I? Am – MMMMPPPHH!"

"It's _me_?"

"Are you sure?"

"'Cause I am Kurosaki Ichigo and I'm not _perfect_! But, _I love you_!"

"Huh? You knew? Hehehe...but I've many vices an – hey! Wait a second…I'm the bastard you were talking about? I resent that! I'm not a stubborn, idiotic moron who is a thic – MMMMMPPPHHH!"

* * *

**GAY** _noun_:

_1. lighthearted and cheerful, happy and full of fun  
2. bright colored, dressed or decorated in bright colors  
3. homosexual, of homosexuals_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Hello again! I'm back with another nice and fun (at least, I hope) story with a new style (first time, so I'm not sure if its okay)...hehe. I know this is a pretty sensitive topic, and I hope I handled this fairly. Anyways, again, thanks to all my faithful reviewers..hehe! Happy reading, yea? Till the next time, I see you guys, ciaoz!


	8. Chapter 8: Him

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 8: Him.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_ I need you, I'm for you.  
- Jason Lo, Operator, The Line Is Dead_

* * *

She does not need to look far to see what completes her. She knows. She knows what makes her happy, what makes her smile, what makes her laugh, what _makes_ her. She knows what takes her breath away, what breathes life in her. She knows.

She knows what is not what but rather who. For it only takes a single person to brighten up her day. It only takes a single person to wash away the pain, to kiss away the scars, to erase the nightmares. It only takes a single person to change her world, indirectly change _the_ world. For this single person encompasses everything that _is_ her.

It's this person's kiss that makes her want more. It's this person's kiss that spins her world, twirls it and tosses it through the golden hoop of paradise. It's this person's kiss that tells her how much she loves and how much she _is_ loved. It's this person's kiss that she needs. It's this person's kiss that she loves.

And they love each other more than anything in this world. For she is she and he is he.

* * *

**HIM** _pronoun_:

_the objective case of he_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry again for the late (and short) update. My finals are coming up...but I just had to let something off my system and so this is the compromise. I shall update soon and longer, methinks. Till then, arigatou for all the reviews...and happy reading!


	9. Chapter 9: Inertia

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 9: Inertia.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it, where's the sense in that?  
- Dido, White Flag_

* * *

The slight drizzle that pattered against the roof settled to a steady pace, echoing throughout the almost empty classroom. Almost empty, for the last bell rang almost an hour ago, save two. Two heads which were bent low, busied about a large poster which was spread over a couple of desk, with markers strewn all over.

A black marker rolled slightly to the edge, stopping by an orange one.

"Ichigo?" He heard his _childhood-friend-since-forever_ asked; the soft drumming filling up the silence of the air, eating away the unexpected and oppressive silence that hung in the air.

"Hmm?"

The pens laid there, untouched, unmoved, unchanging.

He was absorbed in his work, jotting down the details of the Karate Club, noting the time and place and contact numbers. 'P-R-E-S-I-D-E-N-T-:-,' he wrote, 'T-A-T-S-U–.' He was interrupted when a small hand covered his own, hers only slightly less callused than his. He glanced up from his work, losing himself almost immediately in her obsidian eyes, which were gleaming with affection that was colored with flecks of orange.

A slight knock tilted the fragile equilibrium of the two markers, forcing the black one through, together with the orange one.

The next thing they know, her hand was entangled in his bright colored hair, his hands are on her waist, their work crumpled between them. His thin, almost-perpetually-scowling lips are pressed softly against her tender smiling ones, their two beings melding into one. He lowered her on the classroom desk, conscience pushed aside. She moaned in acquiescence.

And the pens dropped, clattered and came to a rest on the hard cement floor.

* * *

**INERTIA** _noun_:

_the property of matter by which it remains in a state of rest, or, if it is in motion, continues moving in a straight line, unless acted upon by an external force_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Hi guys! Finals are finally over, though I certainly think I screwed up some. Hehe...I'm updating four drabbles at once; this is number 1. Happy reading!


	10. Chapter 10: Juggernaut

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 10: Juggernaut.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_I'm running after you.  
- Planetshakers, Running After You_

* * *

She certainly didn't mean to change anything between _them_.

They were supposed to remain friends, best buddies, maintain their platonic relationship till God knows when.

He was supposed to be Orihime's caring and affectionate husband, father to bright and noisy children, and _only_ her friend. But somewhere, somehow, the lines of fate blurred, and she felt herself falling _falling_ in love with him. Or maybe she had already _already_ fall in love with him since she first saw him.

She tried.

God knows, she tried.

She tried avoiding him. She tried not seeing him. She tried dating spuriously. She tried quarreling with him.

Yet, she was still _still_ more in love with him than ever.

Her heart pounds when he goes near her. Her palms sweat when he touches her. Her mouth goes dry when he talks to her. Her voice breaks when he kisses _kisses_ her.

"Stop fighting this," he says, his voice husky from the emotion he feels. "I _will _chase you if you run, I _will _find you if you hide. _Nothing shall stand in my way._"

Then he tilts her head and stares deeply into her eyes, his filled with love.

"Because I _love_ you."

And she surrenders to him.

* * *

**JUGGERNAUT **_noun_:

_a large overwhelmingly powerful object or institution or et cetera_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This is number 2, happy reading!


	11. Chapter 11: Kill

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 11: Kill.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone.  
- Evanescence, My Immortal_

* * *

Blood everywhere.

Splattered and streaked, sloshed and streamed, in rivulets, in rivers _everywhere_.

Across her face, her body, her hands. Dripping from the black blade. Trickling from the hole _the large gaping hole _in his chest. Puddling on the icy floor.

Her bloodied _guilty_ hands still clutched the sword tightly, its blackened blade gleaming lightly in the moonlight, its deadly edge pointing towards his fallen body.

"…eND mY LifE aND yOu ENd hIS…" the ghastly voice echoed within her head.

She stabbed the murderous creature _who took him away _with the blade he always carried with him, as she watched the creature's smug look fade away into pain and shock before slowly fading back to _his_ face. His body slid easily off the sword, crumbling into ground.

She could barely hear him whispered, "…I…love…y–," before he was silenced forever _because of her_.

The sword clattered down, as tears eased their way down her bloodshot eyes, her crimson _sinned_ hands dropping to her sides, her knees on the ground. Silence perpetuated the small room, and she realized how right the creature was.

* * *

**KILL** _noun_:

_to cause the death (of a person or et cetera); to cause the loss of vitality (of a plant or et cetera)_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Number 3, charging onwards! Happy reading!


	12. Chapter 12: Light

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 11: Kill.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_You raised me up, so I can stand on mountains._

_- Josh Groban, You Raised Me Up_

* * *

Sometimes, he feels like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

When darkness falls, when silence grows, when shadows collide, he feels as though he stands in between what's right and what's wrong, with the opposite ends threatening to split his very soul apart.

Sometimes, he feels lost and alone, and wants to _just_ crumble beneath the pressure.

But he doesn't. He doesn't cry under the immense strain placed on his shoulders, he doesn't buckle under the pressure of protecting what he loves; he _doesn't_ slip into the easy route of oblivion. For she _simply_ exists.

She exists in many forms, as a friend, as a lover, as a wife, as his better half. And she plays many different roles, supporting him, encouraging him, _loving_ him. And always, _always_, protecting him.

And just because she's _with_ him and not simply _by_ his side, _she drives away the night_, his muscles strengthened and his will focuses, and nothing else is impossible.

_He would bear the weight of the world and the other so long as she's with him._

* * *

**LIGHT**

_1. noun_:

_the presence, amount or effect that gives light_

_2. adjective:_

_not heavy_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Last one of the four stories I'm posting...hehe. I hope you enjoyed reading all four; it was certainly fun writing them. In any case, happy reading, and people, thanks for the reviews once again. Bye for now!


	13. Chapter 13: Mount

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 13: Mount.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

… _tomorrow and today, beside you all the way…  
- Bread, If

* * *

_

She is lying within the comforts of her soft comfortable bed, her arms to herself, her husband's, around her torso, staring at the white ceiling of her large bedroom. She is waiting for blissful, ignorant sleep to rob her of her conscience, rob her of her heart, and rob her of her passion, into the realm of dreams.

She waits.

Just like him, waiting patiently outside her house. Clad in his ever black robes, coolly wielding the large blade as though he was born with it. Perhaps he was, as he had told her his history (or rather, his father's). He seemed a little apprehensive then, perhaps fearing her outright ridicule of such a peculiar story, but then, as she told him, she has seen more peculiar things. After all, Orihime _is_ her best friend.

The grandfather's clock chimes one a.m. The whole town is probably asleep, aside from two people. One of them is waiting for sleep, but can't sleep, the other, staving off sleep, but yet ever so vigilant. She slips out of her husband's reach, out of bed and stands by the window, careful not to reveal her presence to him outside.

She found out about his nightly activities when she heard Orihime complaining about him never being home. Already his daily activities as Captain of the Fifth Division was ever so draining, yet he still disappears into the night, Orihime complained. She was suspicious so she stayed up late one night, and carefully watched him assume his what-would-be favorite spot. By the large oak tree they once shared their dreams. By the large oak tree where she saw him cry for the first and last time. By the large oak tree she said goodbye to him.

She knows the reason why he guards her ever so zealously. She knows how his enemies know about his Achilles heel. She knows how they would use it against him, just to weaken him. She wants to tell him that she can protect herself, that she is not a damsel in distress. She wants to scold him for letting his wife worry. She wants to tell him to protect his wife instead, and that the past was the past and she doesn't love him anymore.

She wants to tell him all that, but can't. Because like him, she is still in love; and the past is still in the present for the both of them.

And so, she continues watching him from within and him, from without. And still, their love grows.

* * *

**MOUNT** _noun_:  
1. to increase in amount, total or intensity  
2. to place on guard

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Woah...I'm finally back on the scene! Yeaaah! Haha. Sorry, it's my first update since last year...and since there was a lot of things going on back then, I do hope you people can forgive me for my lapse. Haha. Anyways, enjoy reading!


	14. Chapter 14: Non Compos Mentis

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 14: Non Compos Mentis.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell…  
- Matchbox Twenty, Unwell_

_

* * *

_You're hearing voices, you're seeing things. Sometimes, you swear you could see someone there, standing right behind you, watching you, protecting. Sometimes, you can feel the gaze of this mysterious angel and a warm blush would spread over your pale cheeks. It's weird. You're the tomboy of the town, second strongest woman in Japan. You don't blush; you don't feel weak in the knees. So why is it that you just feel so _girlish _at inopportune times, even though there wasn't anyone around you?

Take for example, the time when you went to school, and an epiphany suddenly struck you. Was the desk at that corner always empty? Somehow, you don't think so. But you just can't place it in your mind, exactly who and how was the person sitting there like. But you have these vague images of a scowling face and lurid bright orange hair, but you dismiss them, for you know_ no one _has orange hair. Then, the back of your neck prickles, and you feel as though someone was looking you up. And you blush.

You shrugged off that experience, thinking you just had a bad day. You've been yelled not once, not twice, but thrice from the same teacher for not completing your take home assignment (you swore you forgot all about it – then again, you've been forgetting many things; it's worrying, you're wondering whether you're suffering from any amnesia-like diseases). So you have to serve detention (and possibly missing your favorite karate lessons as well). When you reach the detention room, you realize you're alone with the teacher, and suddenly you get the sense that someone is staring at you again. You whipped around the classroom, and this time you got lucky and manage to get a glimpse of black robes before whatever it was disappeared.

You're freaking out. You've never been one for the occult, and now it seems that you're able to detect the supernatural. You know you should get help from the proper people (i.e. mediums and all the other paraphernalia of paranormal enthusiasts) but you think that this thing may not mean you harm (you're actually feeling protected by this unknown being). So you continue on anyways, going home (you missed your karate lessons and the instructor was not happy). All along the way, you could still feel the mysterious presence behind you, and the warm feeling within you builds up.

Then, there was the time when you were just lying on the bed, writing in your journal. You feel like you're forgetting something, but you just can't remember. And then you suddenly feel something warm caressing your face. Lightly grazing your sunken cheeks. Leaving butterfly kisses along your neck. And you suddenly remembered. And recalled his name.

"Ichigo…," you moaned.

And when 'Ichigo' presses his soft, soft lips (at least, that's what you think it is) on yours and you melted into this invisible embrace, you feel as though you were made for this. The two of you fall onto the bed, and you watched in amazement as his body suddenly shimmered into view.

The orange-haired little boy who cried for his mummy, whom you grew up with, who you grew to love was watching you with a burning glaze in his amber eyes. You reach for him, your hands grasping for proof of his existence…

And you know he still watches you, even now, from the outside of the white sterile room, watching how the nurse tightened the leather straps that tied you up. Even now, as she's injecting into your bloodstream some kind of drugs that simply made the world grew hazy…and hazier…And right before you slip back into your world of dreams, you called out to him again…

"Ichigo…"

_The soft loamy earth was the only signs of the newly dug grave. You trace the intricate carving on the tombstone and then, the tears you kept inside for so long began to spill out. "Ichigo…"

* * *

_

**NON COMPOS MENTIS** _noun_:  
insane

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

To darkangel1910: I wholeheartedly agree, but in the words of the immortal bard, "The course of true love never did run smooth," right?

To Artificial Life Creator: Thanks for forgiving me, and thanks for continue reading as well. Sorry if it sounded weird, but I was kinda like thinking along the lines where Ichi-boy had to leave Tatsuki-chan because he wanted to protect her, but they're both still very much in love with each other. Does that make sense?

Thank you both for reviewing though. I do hope this one's more understandable, but...haha...In any case, enjoy!

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	15. Chapter 15: Overpass

**Title:**

Of Shinigamis And Karatekas

**Summary:**

A series of one-shot drabbles on Ichigo and Tatsuki which are for most of the part unrelated and without order. Chapter 15: Overpass.

**Disclaimer:**

BLEACH does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.

* * *

_The course of true love never did run smooth.  
- William Shakespeare

* * *

_

He likes going there, by the busy roadside which overlooked the busier highway, just watching the cars go by. People say he's mad, but he likes to think that watching life pass by has an addictive effect on him; it soothes him and it calms him down, especially after an exhausting day of chasing spirits and hunting down ghosts.

Of course, like everything else in his life, nothing is always as it seems.

* * *

She likes commuting to her workplace using the highway, straddling her bike and simply speeding with all the other vehicles. People call her a daredevil, for she constantly pushes her bike to its limit, and has a boxful of speeding tickets, but she likes to think that she's a speed junkie, and simply loves the thrill of the wind blowing through her hair; then again, she was always more of a tomboy than a girl, after all.

Of course, like everything else in her life, nothing is always as it seems.

* * *

He would wait by the roadside, loiter around by the cliff, paying particular attention to the road below, watching and spying intently for a rider and her black motorcycle.

She would speed by on the highway, careful to wear her eye-catching black, and occasionally gaze up above to try and spot the black-robed shinigami.

* * *

And when they both see each other, they would be assured, that none was lost to the other, even though they could only catch a glimpse of the other and not touch and feel and _kiss_, even though their lives together begin and end in that very moment.

And after that heart-wrenching, momentous brief second when they pass by each other, everything goes back to normal, and life goes on. But he would go by that busy road again, and she would travel by the busy highway again.

* * *

And their lives would cross, and they will _meet_, and still _not_ meet.

* * *

**OVERPASS **_noun_:

A passage, roadway, or bridge that crosses above another roadway or thoroughfare

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I'm sorry for the briefness of this one, but the plot bunny suddenly came to me, and I just had to write. I'm not sure whether it made any sense, but, well, it did to me. Hehe...please, help yourselves!


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